IF TINY CRYSTALS FORM CLOSE TO THE EARTH’S SURFACE THEY FORM DIAMOND DUST
 
My antler heart grows hooves.
I follow the lead from the pack.
Find shelter in a drunken forest--
 
what species isn’t at risk.
Insulating properties of snow
keep me warm--
 
trapped air between each flake.
With body heat and earth-transfer heat
my home becomes a snowbank.
 
It’s not the hare’s scream
that haunts,
it’s the antecedent silence.
 


​
 
THE TREES  
 
we fill ourselves up
with slow-banked health
 
push off the not needed
with the growth behind it
 
we tick silent rings
inside our own xylem clocks
 
each wound is sealed
with home-spun adhesive
 
we synthesize sunshine to a flameless fire
we shed to survive     to burn spring green
 
 



INTERSECTIONS  
 
All parts have a line
with never end.
 
Ongoing fury—burns
a shatter zone.
 
Cries by a gate can’t
slip out, they hover.
 
Hold blue in your hands.
Go on, cup sky. This isn’t illusion.
 
The sound of absence is your boat
coming in. The work is in the meadow.
 
It’s hard to put past in a safe place.
Some eyes see, if not birds.
 

 
 
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
“If Tiny Crystals Form Close to The Earth’s Surface They Form Diamond Dust” first published in the UK literary journal Stag Hill Literary Journal
“The Trees” first published in the LCP anthology: Heartwood: a League of Canadian Poets Anthology
“Intersections” published in the online UK journal/website Burning House Press  

​Catherine Graham is an award-winning Toronto-based writer. Her sixth poetry collection, The Celery Forest, was named a CBC Best Book of the Year, appears on the CBC Books Ultimate Canadian Poetry List and was a finalist for the Fred Cogswell Award for Excellence in Poetry. Her Red Hair Rises with the Wings of Insect was a finalist for the Raymond Souster Poetry Award and the CAA Poetry Award. Her debut novel Quarry won an Independent Publisher Book Awards gold medal for fiction, “The Very Best!” Book Awards for Best Fiction and was a finalist for the Sarton Women’s Book Award for Contemporary Fiction and the Fred Kerner Book Award. She teaches creative writing at the University of Toronto where she won an Excellence in Teaching Award and is a previous winner of the Toronto International Festival of Authors’ Poetry NOW competition. Æther: an out-of-body lyric will appear in 2020 with Wolsak and Wynn. Visit her at www.catherinegraham.com  Follow her on Instagram and Twitter @catgrahampoet

OCTOPOLIS









a cracked
silver mirror
reflects no octopus;
its sand-blessed face now blasted
and dark.








wriggling
copepods blind
to the harvest, swarm on
the bars of a vintage metal
birdcage.










given
your eyeglasses,
an octopus would shun
the primitive lenses; covet
their frames.










 
gilded
candelabra!
ardent octopodes
recreate your branchial arcs
with flesh.










 
see here,
li’l miss mermaid!
this octopus has one
dinglehopper your museum
can’t claim.










 
her move:
palpitating
to the white king.
a tentacular caress.
checkmate.










 
 
in an
octopus’
untrained suckers, swords are
more direct and less efficient
than beaks









 
 
if an
hourglass lurked
half-submerged in white sand,
could an octopus measure a
minute?










 
splintered
seashells in a
nacreous mosaic
frame an abalone portrait
of you.

BREEDING GROUNDS: EMPTY CALORIES
 
so much depends
upon
the Greenland shark
grinding
its toxic jaws
into
a
gaunt polar
bear 

WHETHER THE HEAVENS BREAK


WHETHER THE HEAVENS BREAK

WHETHER THE BROKEN CLOUDS ACCUMULATE ENOUGH 
               AUDIENCE TO DEBUT AT TIFF

WHETHER CURIOUS CUMULI INCUBATE OUR ATTENTION

WHETHER THE WEATHER BURSTS FORTH
               LIKE HEAVEN'S GATES 
               LOCKING DOWN ALL THE LATCHES

WHETHER WATER AND ETHER COMBINED
               MAKE A BEAUTIFUL SUNSET

WHETHER DUSK IS UPON US SOONER
               RATHER THAN LATER

WHETHER YOU PREFER HURRICANES OVER HEAT WAVES
               MONSOONS OVER ICE MELTS

WHETHER YOU HARVEST FRUIT FROM THE FOREST FLOOR OR
               WITHERED ON WIZENED VINES

WHETHER YOU PINE FOR YOUR MUSKOKA CHILDHOOD

WHETHER PILEATED WOODPECKERS DELIGHT YOU

EITHER THE CONTINUOUS PRESENT OR THE LOOMING FUTURE

EITHER SOME OF THEM
               OR ALL OF US

WHETHER EMPATHY

WHETHER MORALITY

WHETHER TRUTH WAVERS BEFORE SIX-DOLLAR LATTES
               AND MAUVE MACARONS

WHETHER IT WAS A TOTAL BLOCKBUSTER

WHETHER YOU'VE NEVER SEEN ANYTHING LIKE IT

WHETHER THE SKY GETS DARKER THAN "BREAKING BAD"

WHETHER REALITY IS A MALEVOLENT COLOSSUS
               COMING ON LIKE AN ADORABLE BABY LION

WHETHER SUPERWINDSTORMS MAKE THE RATINGS RISE

WHETHER THE DEADLINE PREMIERE
               IS A NO-HOLDS-BARRED DOCUMENTARY ON SUBLIME
               SUB-SAHARAN DROUGHT

DO WE HAVE OUR TICKET IN ADVANCE

DO WE HAVE OUR SEAT RESERVED

DO WE HAVE A COVETED SPOT BESIDE THE RED CARPET

WHETHER WE LIKE COMEDIES 
               OR THRENODIES

WHETHER THE FILMMAKER WAS FUNDED
               BY A FRACKING CONGLOMERATE
               OR A BRAZILIAN MINING CONSORTIUM

WHETHER THE CLIMAX IS A MASS SHOOTING EVENT
               THAT SOUNDED LIKE A RUNAWAY TRAIN
               THAT BARRELLED INTO CANADIAN TIRE
               LIKE A BLOOD AVALANCHE AT NIAGARA

WE'VE NEVER SEEN ANYTHING LIKE IT EVER BEFORE

STEP RIGHT THIS WAY

STEP INTO THE HARSH GLARE
               OF THE BIGGEST SHOW ON EARTH

WHETHER WHATEVER WE DREAM
               IS JUST LIKE A MOVIE

WHETHER IT IS ALL JUST LIKE CUTTING-EDGE CINEMA

WHETHER WE'RE ON 24/7 CANDID CAMERA

ALONG WITH FACIAL RECOGNITION

HOW ABOUT GLACIAL RECOGNITION
               OR WILL THAT SPOIL THE PLOTLINE FOR US

WHETHER IT IS ALL SO ORIGINAL

WHETHER IT IS CRAZY GENIUS AT HAND 
               WHEN THE HEAVENS HEAVE AND THREATEN

YES       THE SKY MIGHT BREAK OPEN

YES       THE SKY IS MADE OF GOSSAMER ETHER

YES       THE ETHER IS MADE OF TRANSHUMAN MEMORY

YES       THE MEMORY DRINKS IN RAIN

YES       THE AUDIENCE IS AN OCEAN

WE WANT THE C.G.A. WEATHER TO LOOK 
               MORE WILD THAN WILDERNESS ALONE

WE WANT THE ENDING TO SHOCK US

WE WANT TO BE AWAKE

SO WAKE UP

CAN WE WAKE UP

LET'S WAKE UP
​

Margaret Christakos creates poetry, teaches, and thinks about forms of direct and indirect social address as part of her thirty-year artistic practice. She hails from Sudbury, Ontario, and lives in Toronto. Recent books include Multitudes and Her Paraphernalia: On Motherlines, Sex/Blood/Loss & Selfies. In Spring 2020 her new book charger is forthcoming. ​